Of Heart and Heroes
by Entwinedlove
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
1. Thick and Red and Violent and Good

**Thick and Red and Violent and Good  
**

 _Peggy Carter was a woman of science yet what stood before her defied rational explanation. What had she got herself caught up in this time?_

Pairing: Peggy/Bucky  
Rating: mature  
Warnings: blood, horror  
Tropes: vampire AU  
Words: 945  
Original Release Date: 2 Mar 2018  
Additional Notes: This was originally posted separately but since it didn't have reviews I decided to add it here where it belongs.

* * *

Peggy Carter was a woman of science. She'd seen some of the research that had gone into the seeming miracle of Project Rebirth but she knew it was science. She'd seen the devastation caused by the weapons HYDRA had made, but again, it had been science.

What stood before her defied everything her rational mind was telling her.

Sergeant James Barnes was standing in front of her. His skin was paler than she'd ever seen even when she'd first met him after Azzano. His shoulders were hunched, bulkier than before, and he was raised on the balls of his feet like he was expecting to have to chase her.

Behind him were her emergency candles burned low in their holders like he'd been waiting for her a long time. The warm amber glow they cast over his bared torso made the whisky she'd nursed until closing time reheat her blood. There was something about him standing there, hesitant, anticipating, that made her want to both go to him and flee.

Something was going on here and she had no idea what.

She'd read the report in January. Had comforted Steve through his attempt to drink himself into a stupor. Sergeant Barnes had fallen from a high-speed train down a snowy mountain crevasse. No one would have survived that fall, except maybe Steve Rogers.

Then why was Sergeant Barnes standing in her bedroom looking at her like she was prey and something he wanted to _eat_.

"Peggy?" he asked, voice not the playful tease he'd always addressed her with but smaller, darker, more vulnerable and more hungry than she'd ever heard it. "Peggy, something's wrong."

She swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders. Readying herself to take charge of the situation as it seemed he wasn't able.

"Where's Steve?" he asked, even quieter than before.

"Captain Rogers died, Sergeant Barnes, two months after—" she paused not knowing how to word it. _After you died_.

"I died."

"According to the reports, yes. You fell from the train."

He looked up at her, the hunch in his shoulders straightening out as he faced her fully. When she met his gaze he averted his, to look down at his hands. She heard him swallow. He turned his left hand back and forth, studying it like it was something new and different. He made a fist and relaxed it. "I was cold. My arm was practically torn off. I could see it dangling from a strip of meat from my elbow." His face scrunched as if he were going to cry and Peggy thought the expression looked so out of place. He'd never shown emotion like that, though there was something entrancing about it. He seemed somehow beautiful. His next words were whispered, "Could see it dragging through the snow." He looked back up at her, the tearful emotion suddenly gone from his face. Replaced with something like fear. "There's something wrong." He licked his lips and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed again. "I'm... _thirsty_."

* . * . *

Peggy thought she must have been dreaming. Her dreams had always been vibrant, her nightmares even more so. It must have been the whisky she drank the night before.

She flexed her fingers to try and bring circulation back to them and climbed out of bed. Her body felt drained, exhausted in different ways. She felt like she had had sex, more vigorous than she'd ever had it with Fred, and languid in a way she could only associate with too much drink. She didn't think she'd consumed that much last night. She was naked but that wasn't too surprising. If she'd been as drunk as she must have been it was a wonder she'd removed any of her clothes much less had the acuity to put some back on. She stepped into her bathroom and looked into the mirror.

The mirror was cracked. Splintered from the centre as if someone had punched it. As her eyes took in the damage she caught herself in the reflection. There was an incongruous amount of red in the image staring back at her. She raised a hand to her neck where it looked concentrated. _Was that blood?_ Her fingers scratched at the red and it flaked off her skin. She looked down at her hands to see they were also coated in what had been red and sticky at one point, now it was dried a dirty brown. Confused, she returned to her bedroom.

Her bedding was soaked in dirty brown blood. Not a little either, too much, and not just as if she'd had a ladies' sort of accident. Near her pillow it was still wet and gooey. What had happened last night? She looked around. Her candles had guttered themselves out and one of her china teacups and saucers was on the vanity. A thick black-red substance had poured down the side and stuck the cup to the saucer. There were two red-brown lip-prints on the rim of the teacup.

Her bedroom, _her body_ , looked like a gruesome, horrific crime scene. She looked towards the window, trying to determine what time it was and how much time she had until she had to go to work, but the sunlight was wrong. It was fading as if she'd slept until sunset. She stood there, waiting, confused, trying to get her rational, scientific mind to remember and recognise what had _happened_ until the last rays of sun slipped past the horizon.

The spent candles flared to life and Peggy startled, looking up towards her bedroom door. Leaning against the frame, wearing nothing but a wicked smirk, was Sergeant James Barnes.


	2. O Prună Coaptă

**O Prună Coaptă**

 _Bucky had it bad._

Pairing: Bucky/Plums  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Crack  
Words: 98  
Original Release Date: 22 May 2018  
Additional Notes: Someone on Tumblr asked if "Plucky" (Bucky/Plums) was a thing in the MCU like "Drapple" (Draco Malfoy/Apple) was in the HP fandom. I just couldn't leave it alone.

* * *

Bucky couldn't help himself and he let his fingers caress the dark, tender flesh. They were so pretty. And firm. Damn. He sighed and pulled his fingers away. Not yet. Soon, though. He eyed the beautiful skin in front of him and couldn't help bringing his nose close and inhaling deeply. His mouth watered at the aroma. He turned and left the kitchen quickly, frustrated at his inability to leave them alone. He knew better, they were always bitter when he didn't wait.

Fuck. Why'd he have to buy plums that weren't ripe yet? _Sunt coapte_ , his ass.

* * *

O Prună Coaptă means "a ripe plum" in Romanian.

Bucky asked _Sunt bune?_ "Are they good?" in Romanian in the plum scene in Captain America: Civil War. The vendor answers him and then Bucky repeats _Sunt coapte_. "They're ripe."


	3. We Have to Stop Doing This

**We Have to Stop Doing This**

 _Peggy regrets her decisions but not enough to stop._

Pairing: Peggy/Bucky  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: secret relationship  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 19 Jul 2018

* * *

Peggy opened her eyes and cursed at herself in her head. A heavy, warm arm lay over her waist and the soft puff of hot air tickled at the back of her neck. She didn't bother sparing him his sleep, he shouldn't be there anyway. She sat up and picked up her clothes that had been scattered on the floor beside the bed, pulling them on with angry, harsh movements.

The bed moved as he sat up against the headboard. "Peggy?" he whispered.

She sighed and looked back over her shoulder at him. "We have to stop doing this, Bucky."


	4. I Don't Cuddle

**I Don't Cuddle**

 _Bucky and Natasha's relationship is complicated._

Pairing: Natasha/Bucky  
Rating: Mature  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 19 Jul 2018

* * *

Bucky groaned and closed his eyes as Natasha rolled away from him. He panted and indulged in the moment, pleasure still sparking along his cock. His nipples even throbbed along with his pulse. After a moment he rolled towards her, intending to put his arm around her and hold her but she had already left the bed and was halfway to getting dressed. She was strapping on her thigh holster and securing her knives.

"Doll? What are you doing?" He pouted, reaching out for her.

"I don't cuddle." Her tone was flat.

"Wish you did, sweetheart. I wish you did."


	5. Don't Say a Word

**Don't Say A Word**

 _Natasha and Bucky have a pact. It's simple. Don't tell._

Pairing: Natasha/Bucky  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 19 Jul 2018

* * *

Natasha blinked awake and would have groaned had she been alone. Instead, she glanced towards the man sleeping beside her and then tried to creep off the bed as quietly as she could. Even in his sleep, he reached for her. It was almost cute.

He woke up when he didn't find her and peered at her blearly before rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"You can't tell—"

"Don't say a w—"

They each stopped and looked at each other before Bucky gestured for her to speak first. "Clint. Don't say anything to Clint."

"As long as you don't tell Steve."


	6. Was That All Right?

**Was That All Right?**

 _Steve is a bit self-conscious._

Pairing: Peggy/Steve  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 19 Jul 2018

* * *

Steve pulled away from Peggy so as not to crush her and laid down beside her. She was panting hard and the movement caused her beautiful breasts to bounce. He reached out and gently caressed the skin of her collarbone where he'd left a few red hickeys from over-enthusiastic kisses. He wanted to draw her.

She turned to look at him and smiled, bright and unguarded. The emotions that welled up inside of him had him smiling back and his chest feeling tight.

Still, he was nervous. "Was that all right?"

She laughed lightly. "Yes, darling. It was absolutely wonderful."


	7. Broke the Bed

**Broke the Bed  
**

 _Steve might have been a bit overzealous last night._

Pairing: Sharon/Steve  
Rating: Teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 19 Jul 2018

* * *

When Steve woke up, he was laying on an incline with his feet touching the floor. He glanced around to find that Sharon wasn't in the bed with him. Everything they'd done last night passed through his mind like a quick reel-to-reel. "Oops," he mumbled when he remembered what they'd done to break the bed frame.

The door creaked open and Sharon was there holding a coffee mug and wearing his dress shirt.

"I'm sorry I broke your bed," he said, feeling a little guilty.

She hummed into her mug to partially hide a grin and said, "I'm not complaining."


	8. Stark's Monster

**Stark's Monster**

 _There was no telling what would happen to the man that would step into the Machine but Stark was sure the Brass would have some use for it._

Pairing: none  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: horror, Frankenstein AU  
Tropes: none  
Words: 926  
Original Release Date: 31 Oct 2018

* * *

When the lightning struck their bunker, everything seemed to explode at once. Electricity overcharged the Machine and jumped to three of the people standing closest, killing them instantly. Howard thought that maybe it killed the Subject too but in the sudden dark, quiet laboratory there was a groan from within the Machine.

Was this success?

He hurried to wrench the Machine open since the electricity had fried the mechanism and it couldn't be opened automatically. "Sorry, pal," he said between grunts with the crowbar, "I'll get you out eventually."

There was an almighty metallic screech and the top half of the Machine he was working to pry open flew off and across the room. He backed up, shocked and disgusted by what he saw.

The Subject, the short, scrawny raw recruit that Erskine had selected for their experiments had grown. As hypothesized, he'd gained over a foot in height and an enormous amount of muscle mass and strength. What they hadn't accounted for was the way his skin seemed gray and overstretched, drooping obscenely around his eye sockets and mouth to show the muscle and sinew beneath. It wasn't just the skin on the man's face, either. At the top of his chest, the Machine hadn't accommodated for the muscle growth and left a series of holes in the skin from the needles. Those holes had elongated and drooped and Howard could see beneath the gray skin there as well.

His eyes were hazy and the intelligent, bright young man Howard had met was nowhere to be seen. He studied Howard for a long moment before asking, "Er... skine?" in a laborious, deep voice.

"He," Howard started to explain but just pointed to the charred, electrocuted bodies on the floor. "He didn't make it, pal."

The Subject looked at the burnt bodies and an expression of great and vast sorrow spread across that monstrous face.

"Stark!" one of the Brass shouted at him from the booth behind him. "What the hell happened! Is that—What is that? Is it hostile?"

"He's not hostile," he answered, even though he wasn't sure. "Are you, pal?"

* . * . *

Bucky was disoriented. He'd been strapped down to that table in Zola's lab and then he wasn't. He'd been rescued by a hulking man in a costume and mask. The man hadn't said a word, not even when the Red Skull had taunted him and removed his own skin. Bucky'd been completely disgusted by the scene and if he'd had anything on his stomach he probably would have thrown it up.

That in and of itself was enough to think Bucky might still be stuck on that table. What sort of nightmare was he trapped in, that someone would just peel off his own face? It didn't help that when they were making camp, the costumed man had remained by his side the entire time. Helpful. _Overly_ helpful, even, and entirely too strong compared to a normal man. He hadn't taken off any part of his costume either, and when he wasn't needed he just stood stock still near Bucky, like some weird masked sentinel.

Bucky had tried to convince the man to get some sleep but he wasn't sure how much the fella understood. When he woke up on the opposite side of camp from where he'd left the costumed stranger he found him standing over him. In the light of day, Bucky could see the man's cloudy eyes, eyes that might have once been blue but now looked filmy and wrong. Parts of the man's costume had been torn and small bits of skin were peeking through.

Bits of gray, bloodless skin. Bucky'd seen enough dead bodies in enough different ways to recognize it. At first, he didn't say anything, he blinked and looked purposefully away. The stranger stayed close to him all that day as well. Bucky wondered if the man had eaten or even gone to the toilet, as the fella hadn't left his side to do either.

That night, he again tried to bed down away from the stranger, this time in a small copse of trees that felt more private than right on the road with the rest of the men. The longer he'd been in the man's company the more convinced he was that he was still on that table. He was hallucinating. Dying. Or maybe he was already dead. The following morning, again, the stranger was standing over him. When Bucky tried to send him away, using the excuse that they should check on the many men that had been rescued from the factory, the stranger didn't move.

He did speak though. "Buc...ky."

Bucky blinked, shocked and a little scared. He didn't go by his nickname here. He was either Sergeant Barnes or Jimmy. He hadn't felt the need to share what his friends and family back home had called him. "Who are you?" he asked the man.

The stranger who didn't eat or speak. Or sleep or shit. The stranger with the bloodless skin.

" _What_ are you?" he asked. He figured that if he was trapped in his own head then it wouldn't matter if he were rude to his alleged rescuer.

The stranger reached up and unbuckled the latch that held his mask in place with clumsy fingers. When he removed it, Bucky stumbled back and landed on his ass. He stared up at the abomination above him, terrified out of his mind because, despite the grotesque way his mind had distorted it, he recognized the man underneath.

"Steve?"

The creature smiled.


	9. Time, Spread Out and Thin

**Time, Spread Out and Thin**

 _Five Bucky-moments in Steve Rogers' long life._

Pairing: Bucky/Steve  
Rating: general  
Warnings: It Got Sad, Pre-CA: TFA to Post A:IW  
Tropes: Pining  
Words: 500  
Original Release Date: 14 Nov 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card 1: **I3** _Ice Cream,_ **B4** _Wind Chimes,_ **I5** _Vacation,_ **G1** _Pet,_ **N2** _Sleeping Late_

* * *

Bucky came back carrying two ice cream cones and handed Steve one with a grin on his face. "What do you think?" he asked.

"'Bout what?" Steve asked through his first bite.

"'Bout today, I mean. What do you reckon it's the best day of the summer?"

Ah, so Bucky was picking up the conversation they'd been having before he'd darted off to grab them a cone each. Steve glanced out at the sea, all the beach-goers and the golden yellow sky as the sun was going down.

He looked at Bucky, joyful and smiling, and nodded. "The best, Buck."

* * *

Steve stretched and turned his head, feeling his neck crack with a satisfying pop. He inhaled, enjoying the sleep-warm scent of Bucky curled close to him and the delicate sound of wind chimes past the broken window. He knew they shouldn't be together like this, curled around one another in a bed in an abandoned manse in France but he trusted his own senses and knew his men well enough not to worry too much.

They'd seen Bucky keep up with him in combat; they'd seen bruises heal overnight.

They didn't say anything then. They wouldn't snitch about this either.

* * *

Steve frowned as he grabbed Bucky's hand and pulled him to his feet from where he'd been thrown from being a little too close to the detonation site. He didn't look too bad for getting tossed like he had but still, Steve worried.

"Why don't we go on vacation when we get home?" he asked.

Bucky scratched at the back of his head knocking soot from his hair and asked too loudly, "Vacation? What, you mean, to like, the Grand Canyon or something?"

When Steve nodded Bucky looked around at the destroyed Austrian countryside. He agreed and mumbled, "Yeah, okay."

* * *

"You need a pet, Rogers," Bucky said, reaching forward and hooking a finger around one of the goat's horns in front of him, shaking it gently side to side. "Stop that," he chided softly, "You don't need to eat Steve's bootlaces."

Steve's heart ached as he watched Bucky. He almost didn't know how to act around him anymore, what with the decades lost between them. Since he'd been in Wakanda, he'd never brought up if he remembered what they had been to one another and Steve couldn't be so selfish to ask.

He watched Bucky and pet the goat instead.

* * *

Sleeping late is an odd sensation. He'd rarely done it even before the army, or the war, or after the ice. He looks at the little hut around him and sees hints of Bucky Barnes all around. For a moment, he hadn't remembered and when he does, his nose tingles and his eyes go blurry. He's sure Natasha or Rhodey will come to get him soon. Tell him to stop wallowing and form a plan.

The only plan he'd been thinking about for so long was gone, like dust in the wind.

All he's left with are regrets.

And goats.


	10. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

**Twinkle Twinkle Little Star**

 _Bucky has a happy little family (almost.)_

Pairing: Peggy/Bucky  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: There's A Small Sad  
Tropes: Kidfic, Bucky Doesn't Fall  
Words: 500  
Original Release Date: 14 Nov 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card 2: **O3** _Alphabet,_ **G3** _Sibling,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **I3** _Food,_ **B3** _Code_

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy," their little girl shouted as she came running up to him after work. He knelt so she wouldn't yank on his prosthetic.

"Yes, my little star. What do you need?"

She grinned at the play on her name and said, "Can you sing me the Alphabet song?"

He frowned but nodded, not seeing the harm, "A-B-C-D—"

"No, no! The other one."

"The other one?" he asked.

"The one about me!" Stella said, putting her hands on her hips in an imitation of her mom. He looked up at Peggy, confused.

She mouthed the words, "Twinkle, Twinkle," at him.

* * *

After Bucky had tucked Stella into bed that night, twice, as the first time wasn't quite right, he joined Peggy in bed. He leaned close to get a glimpse of what she was reading, noting that it wasn't work related, then kissed her temple. He left a short trail of kisses down her neck and grinned into her skin when she tilted her head to give him better access.

"What do you think about giving Stella a sibling?" he asked softly.

She grinned and set aside her book. "I'd be delighted... if you're the one who has to carry him."

* * *

Bucky was enjoying the warmth of the mug of hot cocoa in his hands and the quiet hush in the apartment. It was Christmas Eve and Stella was in bed and Peggy had fallen asleep in the front room. Becca was the only one awake, enjoying the late night hour with him.

"I'm glad you came home."

He huffed a laugh without humor. "It wasn't my decision. Not after..."

"I know," she said, knowing he meant the accident. The train. "I miss Steve."

Bucky nodded, feeling the tears he wouldn't shed at the back of his eyes. "Me too, sis."

* * *

Bucky was at the stove when Peggy strolled into the kitchen, still stretching the sleep from her body. Her robe slipped down her shoulder and she didn't fix it immediately. She came up behind him and rubbed her hands up his chest in a hug and pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder.

After a quiet moment, she stepped to the side to look at what he was making.

"Is the only breakfast food you know how to make, pancakes?" she asked.

"Nah," he answered as he expertly flipped one in the pan, "I can cook bacon too."

* * *

The door slammed and Bucky looked up from the mess he was cleaning up. Stella had decided that dumping blue paint on the floor was helping with the baby's room. Bucky was on his knees scrubbing at the spot in the carpet.

"What's going on?" Peggy asked from the doorway.

"I want to help with the baby's room!" Stella shouted from where she was being punished with her nose in the corner.

Peggy's eyebrows rose up her forehead, confused, and she looked at him.

He shrugged, at a complete loss. "If you were talking in code, I apparently missed something."


	11. Sweet Love

**Sweet Love**

 _Steve just went out for a run, he didn't expect to come home to this._

Pairing: Bucky/Steve, Bucky/Plums  
Rating: general  
Warnings: slight crackfic  
Tropes: none  
Words: 500  
Original Release Date: 28 Nov 2018

* * *

Steve wasn't sure what he'd walked in on. He'd just gone for his daily run with Sam. He knew Bucky was going to head over to the Farmer's Market when he got up but...

He walked on quiet feet into the living room to get a closer look. Was Bucky? Yeah. Yeah, he was.

Steve took a breath and opened his mouth, tempted to say something but decided against it. Whatever was going on here absolutely did not need his input. Bucky could... he could do whatever he liked with the fruits and vegetables he purchased. That didn't mean Steve was willing to engage in the same behavior.

He turned and crept out of the room. He was just going to take a shower and pretend he did not see what he'd just walked in on. Before he made it to the hall he felt something round and firm thunk him on the back of the head. He didn't turn around.

"You just gonna walk away, huh?" Bucky asked. There was a slurping sound as he tried to stop the juice from running down his chin. "You could at least get me a napkin or something."

"You looked like you were doing just fine without one."

"Do you want one?"

Finally, Steve turned back around. The coffee table was literally covered in plum pits, all equidistant apart and sucked clean. Bucky was putting the next pit down in place, his sticky fingers spread like placing it in exactly the right spot was immensely important to his ephemeral art installation. When he was done, he pulled another juicy, wet purple fruit from a crocheted market back on the floor next to him and held it out to Steve. Steve snapped out of his stupor at watching his husband to answer his question even as he took the proffered plum, "You mean the one you threw at my head wasn't the one you were offering?"

"Nah, that one wasn't ripe. Too hard. Did you know that plums are supposed to be good for memory health?" he asked, biting into his next one.

"Did you buy every plum they had?"

Bucky stopped mid-motion, freezing with the half-eaten fruit halfway to his mouth. "Maybe?"

Steve took a bite of his plum, enjoying the sweet, soft flesh of Bucky's favorite fruit. "You're going to have a belly ache if you eat all of these."

He frowned and took another bite. "But they're so good," he whined.

Steve nodded, finishing his plum and making sure to clean the pit as well as he could. He reached over Bucky, setting the pit in the next spot. He couldn't help but smile in reaction to Bucky's smile.

* . * . *

A few hours later, Bucky shouted at him from the bathroom. "I shouldn't have eaten the whole bag, Steve." He whined pathetically and Steve cracked up, giggling from where he was sitting in the living room next to the plum pit art.

"I told you."

"Shaddup, they were so good, though."


	12. Thumpy Tail Wags

**Thumpy Tail Wags**

 _Steve's always wanted a dog._

Pairing: none  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Stray Dog Death, Depiction of Violence Against a Dog  
Tropes: Dogs  
Words: 500  
Original Release Date: 28 Nov 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card 3: **O1** _Person Listening to Radio,_ **G2** _Little Kid Crying,_ **N1** _A Balloon,_ **I1** _Person Napping,_ **B1** _Sunbather_

* * *

When he was a kid, Steve had wanted a dog very badly. He knew he wouldn't be able to have one. Between his bad lungs, living in a tenement, and just not having the money or a place for a dog to run, he knew it would never happen. So sometimes, when his ma would put the wireless on low to help block out the neighbor's yelling at one another again, he'd close his eyes and pretend. The sofa cushion under his fingers would become fur and the beats of the music would be the dog's tail thumping in happiness.

* * *

Steve might have kept walking if he hadn't heard the sound of a kid crying down the alley. He felt like he needed to make sure they were okay. It wasn't a fight like he'd first thought. No, the little kid was crying because of a dog. Steve clenched his jaw as he saw the dog's tail wag despite the way his chest was caved in, probably from being kicked by the milk mule. There wasn't much he could do for either of them besides get the kid home and comfort him some. When he got home he cried too.

* * *

A scrap of something red in the ditch had Steve pausing on his morning jog. At first, he didn't want to touch it but it was the only thing in the ditch and he always wanted to make a difference. If he saw litter, he tried to pick it up if he could. Just a silly way of trying to make a difference these days. Stark would have laughed at him if he'd known that about him. He panted and bent down, grabbing the red material. It was a deflated balloon animal, in the shape of a dog. He smiled.

* * *

Steve's apartment was often very quiet, especially after missions. When he came back this time, there was a soft song playing on the radio. He was cautious as he crept in, wondering who had broken into his apartment. He found Natasha and a dog, both asleep on his couch. The dog's tail wagged once, thumping her in the leg and waking her up. She didn't move at first but then glanced up at Steve and gave him a smile.

"Sorry. Clint has me dog sitting. Lucky, this is Steve. Say hi." The dog bounded to him and licked his face.

* * *

In an effort to follow his therapist's advice, Steve had accepted Stark's invitation to live rent-free in Avenger's Tower. It hadn't been the gym or the sunbathing deck that had caught his attention, however. It was the dog cafe on the first floor. So, after an annoying disagreement with Stark, Steve had gone out and got a shelter dog like he'd been imagining having since he was a boy. When Stark came looking for him later to restart the argument, he'd found Steve laid out on the deck in just his shorts, petting the fluffy, brown dog at his side.


	13. Wasn't Meant to Last

**Wasn't Meant to Last**

 _Peggy and Angie's nebulous and undefined relationship falls apart when they're on opposite sides of the country._

Pairing: Peggy/Angie, Peggy/Daniel, Angie/OMC  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: characters cheat on each other, sad ending  
Tropes: none  
Words: 500  
Original Release Date: 28 Nov 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card 4: **B3** _Ponytail,_ **I3** _Fall,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **G3** _Fire,_ **O3** _Phone_

* * *

Peggy playfully tugged on Angie's ponytail. "What are you thinking about?"

Angie half rolled towards her on the couch they'd camped out on in their new home, Stark's enormous mansion. "I'm thinking this is the life. Wouldn't it be awesome to live like this? Maybe it'll happen, you know? Maybe I'll land that dream job on Broadway or something."

Peggy hummed thoughtfully. "When I spoke to Howard last, he said he was starting up a movie production company."

Angie nodded, thinking. "I know knowing people in the industry is important... but I sort of want to do this for myself."

* * *

The trees lining the street on the way home from her latest audition were yellow, gold, and red. Fall had officially begun and Angie was happy to see it. She loved the cool nip in the air and the excuses to wear fuzzy, thick sweaters. She was looking forward to dragging Peggy out of the house tomorrow for a cup of cocoa and a walk through the park.

Peggy worked so hard, sometimes Angie wanted to reach out from their bed and stop her from going to work but she knew she couldn't. Peggy's second great love was her job.

* * *

"What do you mean? You're going to California?" Angie asked. The words came out whispered and dry. Angie knew Stark was there, knew Peggy would stay with him at another grand mansion with the butler and the maid or whatever.

"It's for work, Angie," Peggy said, packing her suitcase with another dress.

"I know," Angie said. She didn't. Peggy never told her anything about it really. "It's just... I was hoping you'd be around."

"It's only supposed to be a month but that might change. You can come with me if you want."

"I can't, English. I got the part."

* * *

The fire was roaring merrily but the mansion was so very lonely without Peggy around. Angie swirled the dredges of her cocoa and swallowed the last of the chocolate.

She'd got the part, rehearsed it, and played it but nobody had been in the audience waiting on her. Peggy hadn't been able to fly back home to see her.

There had been a sweet older man who'd come every night and brought her flowers once but he was a stranger. He didn't _want_ to be a stranger. With Peggy gone, Angie was tempted to give him the time of day.

* * *

The phone was ringing. All of the phones were ringing. Angie got up out of bed and rushed to the side table. She grabbed and wrapped her dressing gown around her body as she answered the call. "Hello?"

"Angie?"

"Hey, English, long time no see. When are you coming home anyway?"

Johnny poked his head up out of the sheets and made a face in her direction.

"Angie, I've got to tell you something." She sounded very serious.

"Don't sound so down, English."

"Daniel and I are getting married."

Despite the man in her bed, Angie felt her heart break.


	14. Destitute

**Destitute**

 _Bucky's life spiraled out of his control._

Pairing: none  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: Car Accidents, Canon Disabled Character, Loss of Limb(s), AU – Modern; No Powers, about US health system, Sad Ending  
Tropes: none  
Words: 500  
Original Release Date: 28 Nov 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card 5: **O1** _Historical Event,_ **B5** _Middle Finger,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **B1** _Bills,_ **O5** _Begging_

* * *

Bucky stopped chanting to catch his breath and shift his grip on the protest sign he was holding. It was cold and the number of people at this rally wouldn't qualify it as a historical event but he prided himself on his activism anyway. He believed in the cause he was supporting and was doing his part by being out here.

The protest organizer shifted into a different chant and Bucky picked it up, bouncing his sign with the cadence of their voices. Things would change for the better and he was excited to be a part of it all.

* * *

Bucky was crossing the street at the crosswalk, coming from where he'd parked his car in the garage across the street and headed to his apartment when one of his neighbors swerved around the corner too sharply and barrelled past in their lifted pickup truck. If Bucky had been only a few seconds slower in his walk, they would have clipped him. "Hey! Slow down, you asshole!" he shouted, giving them the middle finger. He didn't know if they saw him or not but he kind of hoped they did. They shouldn't be driving that fast in a residential zone.

* * *

The ceiling seemed to dance above him. He knew he was in the hospital. He could feel the tug of the IV in his right arm. There was burning pain on his left side. He didn't want to look. He knew what he'd see. It freaked him out and made him nauseous and he wanted to cry so badly but the meds he was on sort of dampened the sensation. He hoped the description of his neighbor's pickup was enough for the cops and the insurance companies. Bucky'd been at a damn stoplight for Christ's sake.

He wanted his mom.

* * *

Bucky dropped his head to the table. He could feel the scratch of the crisp, white paper on his skin. He was so done with it all. How could there be another bill? Another two bills? He thought he'd already received the doctor bills from the operation that had taken his arm after the car accident but right there in black and white, they wanted another proverbial limb. The accident hadn't even been his fault.

Hadn't they taken enough from him? He felt a tear slip from the corner of his eye to soak into the paper under his cheek.

* * *

He was cold. He could feel water seeping through his socks where he sat on the sidewalk with his little tin can. It was all gone. Medical bills had stacked up higher than what the insurance would pay and the government was dragging its feet in getting him qualified for aid. What more did he need to prove?

A little girl came up to him, her hand cupping some change. A woman behind her grabbed her shoulder to stop her from putting it in his tin. "Were you a veteran?"

"No."

She pursed her lips and directed her daughter away.


	15. When I Think About You

**When I Think About You**

 _Bucky has a harmless little fantasy._

Pairing: Bucky/self, Peggy/Steve, slight Bucky/Peggy/Steve  
Rating: explicit  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Masturbation Fantasy, Voyeurism, AU – Modern, No Powers  
Words: 876  
Original Release Date: 28 Nov 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card 6: **G1** _Release,_ **G2** _Pearl,_ **G3** _Call,_ **G4** _Goddess,_ **G5** _Pink_

* * *

Bucky knew he shouldn't fantasize about his best friend and his wife but he couldn't help himself. He was cozy and warm in the guest bedroom, head buzzing a little from the mulled cider they all shared in front of the fireplace, and despite the late hour, his cock was up and asking for attention. He reached down under the covers to rub at himself, not taking it out just yet.

He closed his eyes and imagined them. Peggy with her mile-long legs and curvy bottom. Steve's fingers would press into the flesh a little but not hard enough to leave bruises on her pretty peachy skin. Her breasts looked perfect too, heavy and round and soft. He bet they would have just the right weight in Steve's palms. Her nipples would be rosy and would firm up with arousal with a few teasing licks.

He knew from being Steve's friend that he flushed easy and Bucky didn't doubt that arousal would make him pink from his cheeks all the way down his chest. God, his chest. Like a perfectly sculpted work of art brought to life. Steve was gorgeous in his own right and together with Peggy? They were the sexiest most beautiful couple Bucky'd ever met.

He let his fingers tease up along the underside of his cock through his shorts but the tease wasn't enough now. He pushed the band of his boxers down and pulled his cock free, pumping it lightly at first.

Steve was probably shit at dirty talk but Peggy could probably direct their scene. She'd get him to call her ma'am or something on days she was feeling particularly frisky but nights like this, when it was warm and cozy and tranquil, maybe they were content to be quiet with only whispered gasps and soft moans when they touched each other just right.

Oh, and they'd know how to play each other. Peggy would love to be on top, calling the shots, and taking Steve in just the right way to get her there. Bucky could imagine how much she'd look like a goddess straddling Steve, all hot and slick from sweat. She wouldn't even have to tell Steve to touch her pearl, he'd just do it. A gentle glide around it to get started before more direct pressure.

Bucky could almost hear her gasping now, as he pumped his cock with a firm grip. He could imagine Peggy liked leaving lipstick marks all over Steve's neck and chest but tonight at bedtime she'd have been barefaced, still just as lovely. She might bite or nibble at him, maybe mark him with a love bite on his clavicle where it wouldn't show over his shirt.

He bit his lip and breathed deeply, smelling the detergent they used on the sheets around him. Their bed would smell similar, maybe a gentle floral note lingering on Peggy's pillow, but afterward, the scent of their sweat-slicked skin and the earthy musk of sex would soak the sheets. It was so heady in the air he could almost taste it. He could imagine the taste of salt on their skin, the combined flavor of them both after they'd finished. He wondered if she'd be too sensitive to be licked after an orgasm or if she was the type of gal capable of going multiple times. He bet Steve could handle a bit of overstimulation too, could practically hear him begging for it and to stop at the same time.

Bucky pulled on his cock, immersing himself in the dream of watching Steve and Peggy make love but it wasn't enough. He was on the precipice but he couldn't get himself to make the jump. He reached down with his other hand to fondle his sac and massage his perineum. It took a few more moments, moments where his fantasy stalled and he couldn't decide if he'd rather imagine Peggy or Steve's fingers moving to play with his ass. Before he could bring his hand up to lick a finger to further his fantasy, he heard a thump through the wall from their bedroom followed by Peggy's voice hissing, "Steve! What if Bucky—" He couldn't quite make out what she said next but hearing his name on her lips was enough. He came on a gasp, surprising himself with how sudden it was. He had half leaned up with pleasure and was cognizant enough to toss the covers back so as to not get his release on the sheets. The cool air of the room was a shock to his arousal-warmed body but it didn't detract from the pleasure pulsing through his veins.

He relaxed back into the bed to breathe, enjoying the post-orgasm way his muscles went limp. His eyes started to close but he roused himself enough to turn and look for the box of tissues on the nightstand. He cleaned himself up, tossed the tissue at the basket, and then pulled the covers back up to his chin. He tried to listen, in case he could hear anything more, but there weren't any more noises coming from the master bedroom. Bucky closed his eyes and let sleep drag him down, content and only maybe a tiny bit guilty for his fantasy.


	16. Sunrise Smile

**Sunrise Smile**

 _Bucky contemplates the sky after he's rescued from_ _Kreischberg.  
_ Pairing: none  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 487  
Original Release Date: 26 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card 7: **B1** _Cloud,_ **B3** _Imperfection,_ **B5** _Out,_ **B2** _Morning,_ **B4** _Window_

* * *

Bucky opened his eyes. He didn't move, just laid there and marveled at the sky above his head. It was just the lightest shade of blue, the dawn come to kiss the night goodbye. There was a single puffy cloud past the treetops but he would dare anyone to call it an imperfection. That single cloud held promise. Hope. Or maybe he was just losing his damn mind.

Around him, the camp was waking up. The hundreds of men Steve saved. He'd given up hope of ever getting out, of ever getting his men out. Men who had trusted their lives into his hands. He thought of the kid he'd whispered promises to, late in the night when the others might not see him cry—"You're all right, you're going to get out. You'll see, we're all going to make it out and when we do we're going to get to go home."—even as his own faith in salvation had dwindled and died.

Bucky didn't even know what had happened to the kid. That morning, Zola had come round to make selections for the isolation ward again. Bucky'd seen the bug-eyed doctor eying up the kid and he'd volunteered. That had to have been days ago, ages ago. He hadn't seen the kid since. That didn't mean he was dead, of course, with all the soldiers in a free-for-all, it was altogether possible that he was here somewhere.

"It's a pretty sight to wake up to, huh?" Steve said softly from nearby. Bucky'd heard him get up already, gone to chat with the officers and NCOs to see how everyone was faring but he'd let Bucky sleep. Steve himself caused so many questions and worries and thoughts Bucky thought his head might explode. Why did he... how did they... "Buck?"

Bucky refocused his attention to Steve, who was standing a little closer now. "Hmm?" he asked, finally taking a deep breath. It wasn't the best smell in the world—gunpowder, blood, unwashed bodies—but it wasn't death. It wasn't rot. It wasn't his own vomit. He could feel the crispness of fall in the air, smell the pine of the trees and the dirt under his back.

"I asked if you liked the sunrise."

Bucky sat up and stretched, offering up a hum of agreement as he did. "I'd like it better if I was seeing it out the window of our apartment in Brooklyn but yeah, sunrise is nice." He wouldn't tell him how he hadn't expected to see another one or how it still felt like it was all a dream. Those weren't thoughts he should burden on Steve.

"Buck, the window in our apartment faced north."

"Yeah, well. You said that was better for painting." Bucky was rewarded with one of Steve's bright smiles, one that could compete with any sunrise. He was definitely thankful he got to see that one more time.


	17. Sweep Her Off Her Feet

**Sweep Her Off Her Feet**

 _After the war is over, Bucky watches as Steve and Peggy have_ _their first dance._

Pairing: Peggy/Steve  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Envy  
Tropes: Everyone Lives!  
Words: 442  
Original Release Date: 26 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #8: **N4** _Ballroom,_ **O2** _Beautiful,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **G2** _Whirl,_ **G3** _Sweep_

* * *

The dance hall—or ballroom rather—was decorated with streamers and a banner that said "Welcome Home 107th!" There were tables set up along the sides for relaxing one's feet and drinking, and that's where Bucky was. His uniform sleeve was rolled and pinned and he had an untouched beer in front of him. His gaze was on the beautiful couple dancing ridiculously slow in the corner of the dance floor, off tempo and out of sync with the song. Neither of them looked like they cared at all, smiles bright on their faces and staring into each other's eyes like the world had ended and they were the only two left in it.

Bucky knew he showed Steve how to dance. Several times throughout the years and he kept waiting for him to at least whirl her around or something, but no, he merely swayed side to side and barely lifted his toes off the ground for fear of stepping on hers.

He couldn't help but be a little envious as he watched them. None of the girls he'd gone on dates with before the war seemed interested in hanging around him after. They were here, plenty of them, but between the rolled sleeve and the lack of charming smile—not to say he wasn't trying to smile, just that it lacked the charm it had—they weren't interested. There were other GIs who were smiling their most charming smiles, who had both their arms, and they were the ones the girls were hanging onto now.

Bucky had been happy to see that the girls who had snubbed Steve before, when he was smaller, were looking at him in awe now. A few had even asked him if Steve was there and when he pointed out his best friend their jaws dropped. He'd like to think that now that his physicality matched his goodness and strength of will, they would appreciate him more but he had a feeling that wasn't the case. Either way, they wouldn't get a chance. The way Agent Carter looked at Steve, no dame would dare.

The song finally came to a grand end. Bucky expected Steve to just step away but instead, he did something that Bucky knew he hadn't taught him; he leaned her back over his arm and kissed her. He supposed if their two-year romance hadn't sealed the deal, sweeping her off her feet at the end of the night would make just about any dame fall in love with him.

He sipped at his lukewarm beer as the two of them, still in their own little world, left the dance hall hand-in-hand.


	18. Home with Less than I Left

**Home with Less than I Left**

 _Steve goes to see his friend at the hospital._

Pairing: Bucky/Steve (if you squint)  
Rating: general  
Warnings: disabled character  
Tropes: AU - Modern–No Powers, slight pining  
Words: 691  
Original Release Date: 26Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #9: **G2** _TV Tray,_ **I4** _Can,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **B5** _Sewing Machine,_ **O1** _Fee_

* * *

Steve grunted as he pushed on the heavy hospital room door. Once it was open enough for him to squeeze through he paused. Bucky was asleep. On the rolling TV tray next to the bed was an unopened can of soda but if he'd had a meal brought for him the plate was gone. Steve looked over his best friend and felt his heart lurch in his chest. He knew—he'd been told at least—that Bucky had had to have his arm amputated but it didn't stop the uncomfortable feeling at seeing his sleeve empty. It didn't stop the pity from welling up in his chest either, though he knew Bucky would be pissed at him if he expressed the emotion. Enlisting in the army had been Bucky's choice and he'd known death or dismemberment was a distinct possibility, or so he'd joked, but that didn't stop the ache in Steve's chest.

Their lives were going to change so much.

"Steve?" Bucky asked, rousing himself from his doze. "What are you doing over there?"

Steve swallowed and walked closer, around the bed to Bucky's right side. "Didn't want to wake you."

"Pssh, wake me up, I don't care."

"You used to hate it when I'd wake you up in the mornings."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged and winced a little. "Nurses have to keep waking me up throughout the night anyway. I doubt I'll be getting a good night's sleep until I get home." He looked past Steve's shoulder and his expression turned wistful for a moment before he looked back. "Becca, Mom, and Dad came by to see me earlier. Mom got all teary and stuff; told me flat out that I was moving back home."

Steve shuffled on his feet where he was standing at the side of the hospital bed, worried that the preparations he'd been making at their apartment were going to be for nothing.

Bucky looked back at him and held out his hand. "Come here, sit by me. Bed's big enough."

Steve did as he was bid, sitting on the side of the bed next to Bucky. "So are you going to... I mean, I've rearranged the living room a bit to make room for the sewing machine I got on eBay."

Bucky's eyes crinkled with humor. "A sewing machine?"

"Well, your sleeve can't just dangle all the time, right? You'd drag it through your food. Might accidentally set it on fire making a grilled cheese or something."

"You moved your easel for a sewing machine? You going to alter all my clothes for me?"

Steve shrugged. He did sort of feel a bit presumptuous for buying it but it wasn't that big a purchase or anything and he'd just assumed he'd be taking care of Bucky. They'd taken care of each other since they moved in together after high school and Bucky's family had moved back to Indiana. It felt weird thinking of Bucky not being there, of his things not mixed with Steve's.

"I mean, if you're going back home then I guess I can put my easel back..."

"Hell no. I'm not moving back to Indiana. I don't care how much Becca says the place has changed. It's not Brooklyn; it's not home."

Steve ducked his head to hide his grin.

While he was looking away, he thought he heard Bucky whisper, "God, I missed you," but when he looked up Bucky was turned and reaching for the soda can. "You know, they charge a fee for these? On top of everything else. And the nurse didn't bother opening it for me." He handed it to Steve, who popped the tab and handed it back. Bucky took a sip and set it back down on the tray. "Thanks." He fidgeted with the can in his hand for a moment before returning his hand to his lap. He used his thumbnail to dig at the cuticles of his other fingers.

"I'm glad your home, Buck," Steve said as he watched Bucky's hand.

Bucky looked back up at him, and though his expression was upset, Steve knew he wasn't going to cry. "Me too."


	19. Apartment 1405

**Apartment 1405**

 _Someone breaks into Darcy's apartment. Or maybe not._

Pairing: Darcy/Bucky  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Awkwardness, Embarrassment  
Tropes: AU – Modern: No Powers, Meet-Ugly  
Words: 587  
Original Release Date: 28 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #10: **I2** _Couch,_ **B2** _Water,_ **B1** _Hairbrush,_ **I1** _Charger,_ **N1** _Lamp_

* * *

Darcy jerked awake from where she'd fallen asleep on the couch. The TV was off, which was weird because she wouldn't have fallen asleep in the living room with the TV off. She blinked again and saw something move in the dim light coming from the window.

A person-shaped something moving.

She screamed and grabbed the first thing near her she could—her hairbrush. It didn't make the best projectile but that didn't matter; there was someone in her apartment!

The person-shaped something shouted back at her.

She grabbed the next thing, which happened to be her phone, but it was still plugged in and the cord was wrapped around the lamp. Neither of them went very far when she tried to throw them but the cup of water next to them worked great. The lamp tipped over and fell off the table. There was cracking glass and a soft metallic thud where it fell onto the carpet.

The lights came on and Darcy had to blink a few times to figure out what had happened. The person-shaped something was over at the door next to the light switch. He was dripping water and looked freaked out as he stared at her.

"What are you doing in my apartment?" he asked.

"Your apartment? This is _my_ apartment!"

"Really?" he asked, looking much less harried now that the lights were on and Darcy wasn't throwing things at him, "because my key opened the door. So I'm pretty sure it's my apartment."

Darcy looked around the room. Everything looked like how she remembered her place to look. Cream walls, grey carpets, messy bar top separating this room from the kitchen, brown couch. "Umm, no?"

He frowned and wiped at his dripping hair with his sleeve. He was kinda cute. Tall, brunet, nice jaw. Stubble. He turned and opened the door, pulling it all the way in to point at the number on the door.

The sign on the door read apartment 1405.

That couldn't be right. Darcy's apartment number was 1305.

She looked around again. It looked like the inside of her apartment but then a thought struck her. "So when the ad said the apartment came furnished, they didn't mean the previous tenant left their stuff, huh?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Umm," she pointed at the TV. "I watched your Netflix."

He nodded.

She looked around for her things, feeling the awkwardness of the encounter rise. She picked up her phone from the floor next to the lamp and unplugged it; come to think of it, her charger was next to her bed, not the couch. She picked up the lamp and set it back on the table. She stuffed her feet into her shoes and shuffled to the door. "I broke your lamp."

He nodded again.

"So, I'm Darcy. Nice to meet you. Sorry about breaking into your apartment." She spotted her keys on the little table next to the door and leaned practically into him to pick them up. On a whim, she singled out her apartment key, slid it into the doorknob and turned it. No resistance whatsoever. "Or, _not_ breaking into your apartment, as the case may be." She pulled it out, gave him a smile, and left.

She was halfway down the hall to the stairs when she heard him call her name. She turned and he said, "I'm Bucky. Maybe we can hang out sometime? Now I'm curious to see how identical our apartments really are."

She grinned. "That'd be sweet."


	20. Strained

**Strained**

 _Tony disappoints Pepper again._

Pairing: Pepper/Tony, Pepper/Happy (implied)  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Relationship Trouble  
Tropes: none  
Words: 214  
Original Release Date: 28 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #11: **O1** _Dressed,_ **G2** _Breathe,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **G4** _Best Life,_ **O5** _Robot_

* * *

Pepper counted back from ten and when that didn't help she started over at one hundred. _Breathe,_ she commanded herself. _Just breathe._ _You are living your best life. Don't overstress it, he probably just got distracted and forgot the time._

She headed for the elevator, ready to go down to Tony's lab to fetch him but when the door opened. One of his robots was inside. As ridiculous as it made her feel, she talked to it. "Hi, Dum-E. What are you doing in the elevator?" She knew there was still irritation in her voice and she took another deliberately large breath. There was no reason to be mean to the robot. He reached out his little grabber arm and offered her something.

A card. The invitation to the dinner they were supposed to attend. On the back in Tony's fast scribble was, "I was dressed and ready to go but there was an Avengers thing. I'm sorry."

Pepper sighed and looked down. She couldn't—shouldn't—be angry for him for helping save the world but it really sucked. She pulled her cell phone out of her clutch and flipped it open. "Happy? I know it's last minute, but do you think you could escort me to the charity banquet? Yes, Tony's busy again."


	21. The Witch of Staten Island

**The Witch of Staten Island**

 _Peggy investigates a suspected murderer by attending a séance the suspect is hosting._

Pairing: Peggy/Steve (past)  
Rating: mature  
Warnings: Horror, Character Death (see end for specific warning), Disabled Character, Described Violence, Vulgar Language  
Tropes: AU – Supernatural/magical  
Words: 2,466  
Original Release Date: 28 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #12: **B1** _Ma'am,_ **I2** _Decade,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **G4** _Far Away,_ **O5** _Violin_ , with bonus squares: B2 Witch, B3 Purse, B4 Document, I3 Sleep Tight, I4 Mother, N1 Free, N2 Ghost, G2 Future, G3 Fearless, G5 Two Dollars, O2 Eight, O3 Line, O4 Tarp

* * *

Peggy was standing in front of a large Queen Anne style home on Staten Island. She checked the advert in her purse again to confirm the address—The Witch of Staten Island monthly séance—and then shoved the document into her purse and straightened her jacket. She was being ridiculous. She didn't believe in witchcraft or magic of any sort. This was for a case. The woman who called herself the Witch of Staten Island was suspected of murder. Peggy was just going to go in with the group for the séance to scope her out. Nothing creepy was going to happen. She pressed her lips together, feeling the sticky pull of her drying lipstick and then headed into the old Victorian manse.

The parlor of the house was all wood and antiques. The upholstery was faded but it didn't smell like dust and the wooden parts of the furniture gleamed with polish. The floor made a hollow sound under Peggy's shoes as she walked into the room. The walls were a faded red damask that accented the dark wood frames of the paintings and old photographs hanging from the picture rail. Hung over the large fireplace was a young woman's portrait. In the painting, she was wearing a black mourning dress in a style that was popular forty years before Peggy was born. Her hair was the color of straw and piled up on her head under an understated hat.

"Welcome," a soft voice said from Peggy's left. She turned and the woman, the medium, in question stood before her. She was shorter than Peggy, by several inches, and her face was lightly lined with wrinkles. She looked like she'd stepped directly out of the painting but aged twenty years. The only thing missing was the hat. "I see you were admiring my mother's portrait," she said. She looked up at the painting and smiled wistfully. "She would have celebrated her one-hundredth birthday this year." After another pause, the woman looked back at her. "I'm Gertie. And you are Agent Carter. Here for the séance. I know a few boys who miss you terribly and are happy you're here to talk with them." Peggy did not let on that Gertie should not have known her name or that she was an SSR agent. She'd signed up for the thing under the name Margaret Rogers. Gertie smiled again and gestured towards a door. "You can join the others at the table. We're still missing one guest but we'll get started soon. Sit wherever you like."

Peggy kept her spine straight as she entered the next room. It was a dining room with a round table and eight chairs. The only thing on top was a set of three lit taper candles of differing heights. There wasn't even a tablecloth covering the antique wood but it was polished to a pleasing shine. The smell of incense lingered in the air. The other guests were already seated at the table.

Peggy took the chair on the right so she could see the door, though that put the servant's entrance she spotted on the other side of the buffet behind her. She furtively glanced at the five other guests, categorizing them quickly. Two older women, probably with sons dead in the war. An older man who kept spinning his wedding ring on his finger, likely a widower. And a young couple who kept giving each other badly hidden grins.

There were footsteps from the front room and the last guest entered. If his footsteps hadn't announced his presence, Gertie's "you can check under the table if you like. I understand you're skeptical. You're not the only one here tonight who is."

Daniel Sousa preceded Gertie into the room.

Well, that explained why her cover had been blown.

He did indeed bend to look under the table before he took the seat furthest from Peggy, so the medium would be between them. He glanced in Peggy's direction but beyond the eye contact didn't act like he knew her. At least he had a view of the servant's entrance.

"We're all happy you've joined us tonight," Gertie said, shutting the door behind her. She turned off the electric lamp in the corner. The action doused the room in shadow except for the three tall flames on the candles. They did not flicker as she moved towards the table and sat down.

"We?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, of course," Gertie answered. "I have as many spiritual guests tonight as I have corporeal. Don't worry, they don't need chairs," she said. The young couple giggled at her joke. "Not all of you have guests though. One of you is particularly popular is all. Are you ready to get started?"

The young man asked, "Do we need to hold hands and chant or anything?" He looked around at the others like he was making a joke.

Gertie shook her head. "Only if you want to. Your mother would like to have a word with you though."

His face blanched and the smile fell away. "My mother?"

And then something odd happened. Gertie's face contorted into a sneer and her softly spoken English switched to a heavy Irish accent that was loud in the quiet, dark room. "Aye, I'd like a word. What do you mean to be leaving the city? You love this city. Just because some cunny has you wrapped around her finger and is saying life is better somewhere else. I didn't raise you to follow your cock around and not use your brain!"

The woman beside him gasped and her eyes went wide. She looked over at the man with something like shock and betrayal on her face. He shook his head and opened his mouth but didn't seem to have anything to say. He looked back at Gertie.

Gertie's face had softened from the sneer and she looked down at the tabletop.

Across the table, Daniel made eye contact with Peggy again before looking back at the medium.

"Marion," Gertie said looking up at one of the older women across the table. Her face didn't twist up into a sneer but her pitch deepened. "I'm okay now, Mom. Me and Johnny both. He's here too. You know we love you. Funny how we both kicked it on the same day. Well, maybe not funny for you but it sure did seem kinda funny to us. We always did have to do everything the same, huh?"

Marion burst into a sob and reached up to dab her eyes with a handkerchief. "My boys, my boys. I love you. Don't go."

Gertie smiled and swallowed. She took a deep breath and looked around the table. Peggy took the moment to do the same. Daniel still looked skeptical. His brow was furrowed as he watched Gertie and every so often he would glance around like he was expecting practical jokes. The candle flames hadn't even flickered. The other woman looked worried and on the verge of tears herself like she hoped she would hear the voice of her lost loved one next. The elderly man on Peggy's right was still spinning his wedding ring but he also looked hopeful. His gaze was unfocused as he stared at the bottom of the silver candlesticks.

Peggy herself was also still skeptical. She kept waiting for the miraculous and strange things she'd heard about séances to happen. Candle flames to flicker, voices from somewhere else, strange smells or sounds. Yet nothing had happened except Gertie had done two seemingly genuine impressions.

Then the candle flames did flicker. Just the once. Beyond the flames, Peggy could see Daniel's eyes watching them as well. "Joshua," Gertie said in another accent. The older man raised his eyes to look at her. Then as if from far away, Peggy thought she heard a violin playing. It was soft, muffled almost, like it was coming from another room. Peggy looked at the door she could see. Still shut. Maybe there was someone else in the house? She looked at Daniel but he wasn't looking at her or the servant's entrance, he was watching Gertie with disbelieving eyes.

The sound was coming from Gertie. From her open mouth. Her eyes were also opened wide and her head was tipped back and to the side at an unnatural looking angle.

Joshua's bottom lip was trembling in the dancing candlelight. The sound of the violin faded as Gertie shut her mouth a minute later. Her neck made a horrible crunching sound as she seemed to resettle it on her shoulders. Joshua looked over at her and nodded. He sniffed like his sinuses had clogged with tears and said, "Sleep tight, Josephine."

Peggy did not believe in ghosts. She felt there was a logical, rational explanation for everything. Science could do everything with the right people doing the sciencing. She'd seen Steve Rogers become Captain America after all. But when Gertie turned her face to look at her, she had no explanation for what came out of the witch's mouth.

"Ma'am," she said. With that same smirk and inflection, she remembered from over a decade ago. "What are we waiting for? You know I didn't expect you to fall for that line, right? Well, good. Now that you're really listening—" and Barnes's accent dropped away, replaced with an accent just like her own. Michael. "Look at you, fearless as always. Could you imagine what the future would be? You should call mother, she misses you," he said. The British accent disappeared. "You're free, Peg," Steve's voice came out of Gertie's mouth and Peggy couldn't stop the shiver that ran up her spine. He'd only called her that in the few private moments they'd carved out for themselves. She'd closed her eyes when she'd heard Michael's voice but what she heard next had her opening them. "You don't have to wait for me. I'll be a while still." The candles were flickering as if there were a great wind. Peggy sucked in a breath to steady herself and the flames went low and then out completely.

Gertie's soft voice spoke in the darkness. "Those boys were strong. They'd been waiting on you for a long time, Agent Carter. I'm glad you finally decided to come speak to them."

Then there was a blow to the side of Peggy's head.

She came to in what looked like a dirt-floored basement lit by an oil lamp in the corner. Her hands and feet were bound and she was laying on a tarp. Next to her was Daniel.

"What happened?" she muttered, pressing her bound hands against her temple.

"We got duped. Did you really fall for it?" he asked. "That violin trick was weird. I wonder how she did that."

"Daniel?"

"What?"

"Hush for a second," she demanded. She could just make out voices. There was a woman's voice, soft like the medium, but there was also a man's that sounded angry. She crawled as best she could across the floor towards the sound. Daniel seemed inclined to follow but his thighs had been bound and his prosthetic and crutch had been taken.

Through the wooden ceiling, Peggy heard footsteps—harsh and retreating—and then a second pair following. "Don't you walk away from me!" the man said.

"Why do you insist we do this? I have a gift; I want to help people!"

"You have to pay for the gifts you've been given, Gertrude, and the price for them is high."

"Let the agents live, at least, please!" she beseeched him.

The man did not answer. All was quiet for a long time before a single set of footsteps echoed across the ceiling in the direction of the stairs. Peggy stood as best she could and hopped towards the wall to hide in the shadows near the base of the steps. The door at the top opened and heeled shoes sounded on the stairs. Peggy counted in her head, listening and waiting. She saw the brush of black skirts first and used both hands to punch at the woman's head the next second.

Gertie fell to the side and looked back in shock at Peggy. She pulled a knife from her skirt pocket as she stood and said, "I'm sorry," before coming at Peggy with the knife.

Peggy fought dirty.

She pulled hair, used the woman's heavy skirts to trip her up and deflect her stabs of the knife, and she even twisted and shoved until she heard the crack of the woman's arm as it broke. The knife fell to the ground but Gertie didn't seem to notice the broken arm, only the fact that she couldn't move her hand properly. She looked back up at Peggy, frowned but shrugged. "Immortality has its perks, I suppose," she said before grabbing the dropped knife with her other hand and throwing herself at Peggy to fight some more.

Peggy was breathless and pinned against the dirt wall, holding Gertie's hand and the knife in it away from her throat as best she could. "He said we had to do this, it's the price of admission," Gertie mumbled. "Much steeper price than the two dollars I used to charge, isn't it?" Her eyes went wide and her nostrils flared as she whispered, "No!"

There was a bright flash of light and the sound of broken glass and suddenly Gertie wasn't pinning Peggy to the wall, she was spinning madly and screaming as fire from the oil lamp spread up her skirts. Daniel was standing as well as he could next to the stairs and he'd managed to break free of the rope binding him. He helped Peggy with hers and they both stood watching with wide, terrified eyes. Gertie shrieked and it wasn't just a single woman's voice that came out of her mouth. A deep masculine pitch with the same timbre as the angry man's voice upstairs was present there as well. She fell to the ground and rolled, shuffling the tarp to the side to reveal a long wooden box, reminiscent of a coffin. She yelled again and pounded on the lid once before falling still. Her clothing still smoldered and burned in places and what skin they could see of her hands and face in the firelight looked charred and black. Her eyes were wide from pain.

"Jesus Christ," Daniel said.

After a long time of watching the woman's body and as the fire on her clothes burned itself out, Peggy asked, "Did you tell her my name?"

"What? No, I didn't even know you were investigating this case."

Peggy didn't say anything but as she climbed the stairs she wondered how Gertie had learned her name. She deliberately did not think about the voices she'd heard during the séance.

* * *

*Steve and Bucky actually died in the war. Also, the suspect Peggy is investigating is set on fire and the other people in the room don't do anything to stop it (as she had just been attempting to kill them.)


	22. Prospects of the World

**Prospects of the World**

 _Steve retired instead of going rogue._

Pairing: Bucky/Steve  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 265  
Original Release Date: 30 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #13: **B2** _Sunny,_ **I2** _Prospects,_ **N2** _Olive Tree,_ **G2** _Mountain,_ **O2** _Growing Old_

* * *

The sky was just turning a brilliant blue as Steve slowed to a walk. He still liked to get up before the dawn and go running but now it was more for the pleasure of it than anything else. As he walked into the hut he shared with Bucky he announced, "It's going to be sunny today."

"Of course it is," Bucky mumbled from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned.

Steve smiled to himself and grabbed his portable easel and pencils. He took them outside and settled down on the ground underneath one of the trees. He activated one of his Kimoyo beads and brought up the book he'd been using as source material, "Prospects of the World." He flicked his fingers, flipping through the different pages of landscape photography in the holograph before deciding on one. He was just finishing the basics of his sketch when Bucky joined him outside.

Bucky came up behind him to look at his drawing. "Mountains and... is that an olive tree?"

"Yep."

"Another one you're sending to Stark?"

"Yep."

Bucky shook his head in exasperation but there was still a slight grin on his face. "Do you think he'll ever figure out that we're not actually in the places you send him pictures of?"

Steve finished up a detail on the tree and looked up at him. "I hope we end up growing old before he does. Retirement suits you."

Bucky smiled at him, his eyes going soft and wrinkled at the corners. "You too."


	23. The Consort's Coronation

**The Consort's Coronation**

 _Loki lets Darcy sleep as long as possible on the day of her coronation._

Pairing: Darcy/Loki  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Genderfluid!Loki  
Words: 270  
Original Release Date: 30 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #14: **O1** _Blanket,_ **G1** _Gold,_ **N1** _Burrow,_ **N2** _Brain,_ **I2** _Ocean_

* * *

Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the thin curtains and woke Darcy up. She pulled the blanket further over her head. She'd had a long night, they both had, but if the lack of another person in the bed was any indication, her partner had slipped out early. She didn't care too much at the moment. She burrowed further onto their side of the bed and smiled. It still smelled like them. Salt and ice, like the ocean in the winter. She closed her eyes and started to drift off again.

Some time later, she felt her lover return to the bed and curl up behind her.

"You should be getting up now, darling," Loki said. Their voice was deeper, pitched lower than it had been the night before and Darcy had a brief flash of memory of falling asleep with her face pillowed on breasts. She supposed today they were feeling masculine. She rolled over to look at Loki and gave them a smile.

"Your bed is so comfortable. I don't want to get up."

Loki grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. "As is only right for the Ruler of Hel. But today is very special for you. Afterward, you can call it your bed too."

Some of the sleep that was clogging Darcy's brain fell away. That was right. There was going to be some fancy ceremony declaring her Loki's Consort. She was even going to be given a crown or something. She kissed them again because the entire idea of it short-circuited everything in her head.

Who knew making a deal with Loki would get her here?


	24. Kneepads, Reason No 2

**Kneepads, Reason No 2**

 _Bucky likes the threat of getting caught. Maybe so does Steve._

Pairing: Bucky/Steve  
Rating: mature  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 30 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #15: **O2** _Shameless,_ **G2** _Electronics,_ **N2** _Whispers,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **N4** _Yes_

* * *

Steve whines low in his throat and hopes it's too quiet for the electronics around them to pick up. Bucky's lips are making a smacking-slurping sound against his throat that he knows the others would comment on if they heard it. Steve's eyes roll back in his head as Bucky releases the buckles on his suit and slips his hand down his trousers. He squeezes tight around Steve's cock and hums happily.

"Shameless," Steve whispers.

Bucky leans back enough to grin with false innocence. "Who me?"

"Yes, you."

"Want a suckjob?"

"Hell, yes."

Bucky laughs and slides to his knees.


	25. Until We Meet Again

**Until We Meet Again**

 _Peggy, Bucky, and Steve find each other in the afterlife._

Pairing: Bucky/Peggy/Steve  
Rating: general  
Warnings: character death  
Tropes: afterlife, soulmates  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 30 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #16: **O1** _Talk,_ **G2** _Wait for Me,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **G4** _Mine,_ **O5** _Long_

* * *

Steve looked her over, smiling to himself as he took in her victory rolls and glossy brown hair. "You were supposed to wait for me."

"For us," Bucky added from his left.

"Wait? I did wait. You were late!" Peggy said, though there was laughter in her voice. "You've no place to talk, either," she chided Bucky.

He ducked his head and apologized. "Sorry."

Her smile faded a little and she reached out to him; he knelt for her so she could cradle him against her. "My darling boys. Mine, finally. I've waited so long for you." Steve kissed her.


	26. Unconventional Start

**Unconventional Start**

 _Darcy is kidnapped by HYDRA. When the facility where she's being held gets attacked, a scientist gases her cell. Her savior helps her out as best he can._

Pairing: Darcy/Bucky  
Rating: explicit  
Warnings: Dub-Con, Non-Con  
Tropes: Fuck or Die  
Words: 3,355  
Original Release Date: 31 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #17: **O1** _Savior,_ **O2** _Strong,_ **O3** _Go,_ **O4** _Have to,_ **O5** _Ohio_

* * *

Darcy couldn't believe she was stuck in Ohio. It was just her luck. She'd been on a cross-country road trip—because let's face it—she didn't have the money for a plane ticket, plus she was hauling quite a few boxes for Jane in the back of her car.

Or at least she thought she was still in Ohio. She wasn't actually sure she knew where she was. She'd got off the interstate to go to the bathroom and get something to eat and there had been lots of traffic and signs and a police officer pointing her in the direction of a detour sign. That had been an hour ago, at least.

And now her car had done something weird and died and wouldn't turn back on. She checked her phone battery, 30%, which wasn't too terrible. What was terrible was she didn't have any service. What sort of carrier did she have that they didn't cover the middle of the country? At least she'd been able to coast to the side of the road. She looked around. There was a lot of farmland, a lot of houses, and not much else.

She gathered up her purse, her phone and taser, just in case, and her car keys. Locking the car, she turned and started walking. She supposed she could walk up to one of the houses all around and knock and ask for a phone or some help but that would be weird and creepy. Who does something like that?

She'd come across a gas station eventually.

The first commercial building she came across was not a gas station. It was an antique store. She headed in—because what else was she going to do?—and looked around. At first, she didn't see anybody working there but after wandering through a few aisles she found someone talking with a man with a big bushy beard and a hat. He might have been wearing suspenders. Oh god, had she wandered into Amish country? She congratulated herself on not stopping at one of the houses she'd passed; they probably wouldn't have had a phone anyway. The store itself had electric lights, so maybe that was a good sign. A phone with service and someone who could fix a car.

She had a cell phone for this reason, so she wouldn't be stranded in the middle of nowhere like some horror movie. Stupid service provider.

She waited, as patiently as possible, but it didn't seem like the two men would be finished debating the pros and cons of the antique stove they were standing near anytime soon. Especially since one man's gripe segued into a story about somebody's neighbor's grandfather's childhood.

She sighed, a bit loudly, but the clerk just glanced in her direction and gave her a smile before saying, "Welcome. Have a look around. We've got some of the best antiques in the country." He then turned back to the Amish guy and continued with his story.

Right. Well.

She turned and wandered around. She was a modern girl. Liked modern _electric_ things and being an antique store in Amish country definitely didn't pique her interest all that much. There was a slightly darker area in the corner and several tables and chairs around but there was a sign on the serving counter that said they were closed. She ventured over to look at the menu anyway.

That's when someone chloroformed her.

She woke up to a horrible headache with a lingering chemical smell in her sinuses and a dry mouth. It was dark. A basement? She wasn't sure. It looked a bit too big to be a basement. Where the hell was she?

"Hey!" she tried to shout, but her mouth wasn't the only thing dry. Her entire throat was dry and scratchy and she really wanted some water.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she decided she was definitely not in a basement. Or, at least, not your typical basement. Basements didn't have cage bars or observation windows or hospital beds. There was a bottle of water on a small table beside the bed that she checked the plastic seal on before she unscrewed the cap to drink it. She'd watched enough survival videos on youtube to ration herself too and didn't drink all of it even though she wanted to. Plus, in her quick inspection of the room, she hadn't seen a toilet.

She stood up on wobbly legs and steadied herself on the metal bedframe when her head spun. Getting drugged was not her idea of a good time. She patted her pockets out of habit and pulled out her phone. It was still on but the battery said 7% and there was still no service. Amazing. Great job service provider.

She dropped her phone on the bed and stuck her hand back into her pocket. Two things were missing. Her car keys and her taser. Of course, the abductor wouldn't be stupid enough to leave her a weapon. She could have been so lucky.

She wanted to use her phone as a flashlight but knew better as it would drain the battery faster. She stuffed it back in her pocket at least. No need to chance losing it if she did manage a jailbreak. Walking around the perimeter of the small room didn't afford her any clues as to her location but she did learn that the bed and small table were bolted to the floor and that there was an air vent in the otherwise solid-looking ceiling near the door. She walked to the door and banged on it a few times. It made a hollow bang. She frowned and walked to the observation window with the bars. She tapped the clear glass with a fingertip and squinted to try and see out. She couldn't tell what was beyond the room. A lab?

God, she hoped whoever abducted her would come back soon, if only because she was absolutely bored. They'd probably gloat about something to upset her but then she'd also find out more about why they'd taken her from the antique store. Maybe she was one in a string of unsolved cases. A ball of anxiety started to form in her stomach and she decided that she shouldn't go down that train of thought.

Hey, whoever it was might be getting her car fixed. It's not like they could really steal it as it was, right?

Darcy sighed and crossed her arms, propping herself up on what amounted to a window sill and waited.

It didn't take long before she started to daydream. And then doze. So she went back to the bed and laid down. She wasn't sure if she was happy that there were sheets, a blanket, and a pillow on the bed or not. At least they looked clean.

She jolted awake to the sound of fireworks.

No. Gunfire.

Gunshots echoed throughout the facility, followed by screams. She jumped up and darted to her little window, hoping that she could see something. The lights in the lab were on and three people in lab coats were huddled near the back wall while a fourth was madly typing on a computer terminal in the center of the room.

There was an odd clicking sound and the air that was previously being pumped into the room through the vent turned off. That did not bode well for her continued survival so she banged on the glass with her hand. The typing guy glanced up but then returned his eyes to the screen he was looking at. The vent turned on again but this time the air was tainted with a purple cloud of something being sprayed into the room as well. She rushed to the door and banged on that.

She could only hear a muffled shushing sound and someone saying no repeatedly.

She banged harder on it.

There was an answering bang that made her jump back and hide in the corner. Three more bangs followed. There was silence for a moment and she ventured back to the window. She frowned to see all four scientists on the ground growing bloodstains on their coats. No one else was in the room.

She went back to the door and banged some more. "Hey!" she shouted. Someone was obviously here, murdering people, possibly her abductors, but that wouldn't do her any good if they left without springing her before whatever was in that purple smoke got to her. It was surprisingly sweet smelling. Like the lavender she sprayed her pillow with at night when she remembered. That didn't reassure her.

The sound of an airtight pressure release valve disengaging had her breathing out a heavy sigh of relief. The door swung open and what greeted her was... decidedly not the police.

It was one person. A man. With brown hair and angry eyes and black tactical gear.

And a metal arm.

Holy shit.

She saw him sniff and then heard him swear. He walked closer to her, holstering his gun as he did so. When he was close enough that she had to tip her head back to see his face, he studied her. "How long was the purple gas deployed?"

"I don't know? Five minutes?"

He swore under his breath again. "What's your name?" His voice was rough and the sound of it seemed to graze along her skin. She shivered.

"Darcy."

"This is very important, Darcy, but what did the gas smell like?" She blinked up at him and smiled. God, he was sexy. Who knew tactical gear and deadly weapons would be a turn on for her? Then again, Thor was pretty hot too. Maybe it was the armor? He reached out and touched her shoulder and the feel of his hand on her arm sent little shockwaves of pleasure through her. He shook her a little and her head wobbled. "Darcy? What did the gas smell like? Though I think I can probably tell."

That's right. He'd asked her something. "My bed. Smelled good."

"Like flowers?"

"Mmhmm. Like lavender. Soft and... pretty... you're very pretty." She reached up and touched his cheek.

He sighed and let his face fall into her hand so she cupped it. "I always hated when they'd gas me with that one. Come on, let's get you some fresh air." He grabbed her hand with his right one and led her out of the sprawling facility.

On the walk, Darcy's body seemed to get hotter and just the sensation of her clothes rubbing against her skin made her both irritated and shivery. "S'hot."

"I know doll, I'll help make it better as soon as we get out of here," he said.

* . * . *

Bucky led the girl by the hand up the last set of stairs and out of the hidden door set in the middle of a copse of trees. It had taken him a while to find this underground HYDRA facility but he was glad he hadn't put off clearing it. Who knows what would have happened to this girl if he had. As soon as they were out in the sunshine, she started pawing at her shirt. It came off quickly and he took it from her, hanging it over his shoulder while he kept an eye out for stragglers who might have tried to double back. He was almost positive he'd got everyone but it didn't hurt to be cautious. Especially with what he knew was about to happen. He went to the truck that he'd commandeered and opened the back driver's side door, pulling out a blanket. At the same time, she flung her bra off and started to shuck her pants. He retrieved the clothes as she shed them and set them in the truck. When she was naked, she wasted no time touching herself.

He nodded and gestured for her to follow him where the trees were thicker so they'd have some shade. She didn't notice and after he spread out the blanket, he went back to get her. When she didn't want to move from where she was leaning against the truck he picked her up. "So strong... my savior..." she murmured. "It hurts." Her fingers were buried between her thighs and she'd developed a light sheen of perspiration all over. Her hair was starting to stick to her forehead.

"I know, sweetheart. You've got the right idea. Come here and lay down."

She did as he suggested, sprawling out on the blanket as pretty as anything, legs spread wide and her short fingernails playing at her clit.

"How fast can you make yourself orgasm, dollface?" he asked as he knelt between her thighs and sat back on his feet.

"Don't want to, want to draw it out. You said you'd help," she said. Her voice had gone raspy and quiet as she reached up to claw at his clothes.

He ignored her seeking hands and asked, "Can you get off from dirty talk? S'that something you like?" She moaned and returned her focus to her fingers.

Bucky knew that pain. The poisoned gas, as sweet as it smelled, caused intense arousal. At the right dosage, it made him willing and compliant, overheated and engorged, and it made him want to draw out the pleasure as long as he could. Trouble was, the longer he let it, the more painful it got. If left to his own devices he'd edge himself until the pleasure turned to pain and he'd screamed himself hoarse when he finally came, his nerves so hypersensitive that it felt like his cock had shot off shards of glass. The tenderness hadn't faded for over a week—and that was with superior healing. He suspected exposure for a normal person could result in hospitalization or possibly death.

"What do you like, Darcy?" he asked. "You like nipple play? Want me to touch your nipples?"

"Yeah," she said but didn't move. He didn't either, testing her to see if that was something she actually wanted or perhaps the dirty talk would be enough to help her off.

"What else, huh? Like it when someone goes down on you? Fingers you?" She moaned again and her eyes half-closed. Her fingers slowed like she was starting to edge already and he leaned up, closer to her. "Don't stop, sweetheart. I want to hear you come for me. You think you can do that? You ready for it?"

"Nooo, not yet."

He lowered his volume and said, "Stick your fingers inside, Darcy. S'that something you like? Don't stop playing with your clit, though. I want you to come."

She reached down, obeying him as she engaged both hands to do what he suggested. Her hips started rocking up into her hands.

"That's it, doll, you can do it. Come for me."

Her breathing grew heavier but her ministrations slowed down. "Want to ride your cock," she muttered.

"You can ride my cock after you come at least once. I'm not going to touch you until you come. Then you can ride me as long as you want." Bucky willed his body to relax. He knew there wasn't enough of the gas in the air to trigger a response in him—he needed a much longer exposure time or a higher concentration than what he'd been exposed to by releasing the room she was in—but that didn't mean he wasn't affected by the way Darcy was laid out in front of him and what she was doing.

"Need more," she muttered. Her hands had got rougher and Bucky hoped she wasn't hurting herself. He reached up and cupped her breast with his right hand, belatedly thinking about the blood that might be on his skin. There were a few flecks dotting the back of his hand but it had dried. He tried to concentrate on that, on the mission and the visual perimeter and the tasks in front of him rather than on how soft her skin was under his fingertips. He flicked her nipple once and then lightly squeezed, rolling it gently between his fingers. "Oh," she said on a gasp and then arched her back and thrust her chest further into his hand. "More, both sides, please, please."

Bucky inhaled deeply and obeyed, leaning forward to bring his mouth to her other breast. It had to be his mouth as he wasn't going to touch her with his metal hand. Although he had more feeling and sensation in it than one would typically expect of a prosthesis, he didn't trust himself not to hurt her with it.

She didn't seem to mind.

He licked her areola and nipped the skin below her nipple. Her hips pressed up against him as she rocked up into her hands. The move stimulated him but he focused his attention on bringing her pleasure. Every few moments he would back off and murmur something else dirty at her, encouraging her to come and promising more if she wanted it afterward. "Come for me, doll. Go on."

"Don't want to."

"You have to, Darcy. Come."

He was relieved when he felt her finally press up against him and stiffen. A little cry escaped her mouth as she did. He gentled his touch and sat back, pulling his hands completely off of her. He scooted back and stood, then draped the edge of the blanket up and over her, covering some of her nakedness.

He did a perimeter check and retrieved her clothes and a bottle of water from the truck before taking it to her.

He handed her the bottle. She drank about half before tightening the cap. "How are you feeling, Darcy?"

She looked up at him with a little confusion on her face before nodding. "What was that?"

"I don't know the official name or anything. I always called it 'the fucking gas' when they dosed me with it."

"Huh," she said. She looked around for a minute and then back up at him. "You didn't, though."

"You couldn't consent. I apologize for what I did."

"Thanks," she said. After another few minutes, she wiggled back into her clothes and then stood up. "You didn't happen to find my keys and my taser in there, did you?"

He pulled the car keys and the taser he'd found on one of the HYDRA agents on the upper levels out of his pocket and held them out to her.

"Awesome," she said, taking them from him. "I suppose they probably didn't fix my car."

"Were you hitchhiking?"

"No, no. Well, sort of. I was driving cross-country with a friend of mine's stuff—her name's Jane and she's a scientist—but then my car just stopped and I started walking. These guys—"

"HYDRA."

"HYDRA?" she repeated, her eyebrows raising. "Right, okay. I've heard of them. Bad shit. Anyway, they snatched me from an Amish antique store."

"I saw the store."

"Yeah, so my car's probably a half a mile down that road."

"I can take you to it. Have a look at it. Maybe take you somewhere that could actually help you," Bucky offered. It felt like the least he could do seeing as how she'd just been kidnapped. He didn't want to think about what HYDRA was planning to do with her had he not decided to hit this base.

"That sounds... great, actually. Hey, what's your name?"

"Bucky Barnes."

Her eyes did not go wide with contempt or pity. Maybe that meant when the HYDRA agents said all the files had been dumped after INSIGHT, not everything had been included. Maybe she didn't know about the Winter Soldier and who he used to be.

She smiled at him and bent to pick up the blanket. She did an awful job folding it but it gave him a moment to settle his mind. He hadn't expected to pick up a companion but for the foreseeable future, he apparently had one.

"Thanks again," she said, looking up at him from under her lashes. She then hip-checked him and walked ahead of him to his truck. He followed.


	27. Recognized

**Recognized**

 _Darcy is accidentally transported into the past where she meets someone before they're famous._

Pairing: Darcy/Steve, Connie/Bucky  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Time Travel  
Words: 918  
Original Release Date: 31 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #18: **B1** _Someone Else,_ **I1** _Courting,_ **N1** _Dude,_ **G1** _Dancing,_ **O1** _Break the Ice_

* * *

Darcy had no idea how she'd ended up in the 1940s. The last thing she remembered from her own time was Jane fiddling with her teleportation stick things that helped save London from the Dark Elves during the Convergence. She kept going back to the place she'd "landed" but it'd been about two months and nothing had happened to bring her home. She supposed Jane just hadn't figured out how to fix it yet.

She _hoped_ Jane was working on how to fix it.

But, it's okay. Darcy's a smart girl. She figured out what to do. For the most part. She found a boarding house for single women. And a job. Secretarial, of course, because nobody seemed to want to hire her for anything else. It wasn't so bad. She made a few friends too. Connie was really sweet and tried to include Darcy in her typical outings.

Which meant Darcy got a quick lesson in dancing.

It was fun, though the dating system was really complicated and absolutely did not mean people were courting—she'd been set straight on that really quickly. Dancing was for fun. And dating was for popularity.

Now, Darcy'd never really been very popular and with her lack of dancing abilities she didn't see that changing in the future—past?—at all. So while she went out dancing with Connie, and sometimes on double dates too, she didn't score very highly on the popularity scale.

It was fine. She wasn't really interested in any of the guys Connie introduced her to anyway. They all seemed to remind her of pictures of her great-grandparents that were on display when she was growing up. It was probably the haircuts.

That was until Connie introduced her to Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. Bucky was actually Connie's date but she'd promised he'd take her out for a swing on the floor too. Her date, on the other hand, was a short dude with a chip on his shoulder the size of Manhattan. He was polite but not really interesting until some idiot near their table started being rude. Then he made a big deal about provoking the fellow until they were both kicked out of the dance hall. Bucky apologized and went after him. Connie was immensely disappointed but Darcy wasn't and suggested that maybe their date didn't have to be over.

They followed the sound of soft whispers down the alley beside the dance hall to find Steve with a bloody nose holding a handkerchief to his face and Bucky prodding at it gently. "It might be broken, pal."

"I can set it if it is," Darcy said. She bit off her reasoning because saying she took a class to pad out her schedule two semesters ago 71 years in the future probably wouldn't make sense.

Both men turned around, startled. Bucky frowned and said, "Ah, girls. You didn't need to come out here. No need to see this." He stepped in front of Steve but Darcy wasn't sure if he was trying to help Steve save face or if she and Connie were supposed to be squeamish about blood or something.

She glanced at Connie, didn't notice any squeamishness, and looked back at him. "It's okay. Is his nose broken, then?"

Bucky sort of gave a shrug and Darcy stepped around him. Steve frowned when he saw her and looked down, dabbing at his bleeding nose with his handkerchief again. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's fine. I've met people who break the ice by picking fights," she joked, thinking of Thor and Loki, but reaching forward and pressing her fingers to his nose. He winced a little but then clenched his jaw and the stubborn tilt to it reminded her of someone. She blinked away the flash of memory and said, "It's not broken now but you've broken it in the past, haven't you?"

He shrugged. "Somebody's got to stop the bullies, right?"

She lowered her hands and squinted a little. Anti-bully, clenched jaw, those pretty blue eyes and... As soon as who this was clicked in her brain—holy shit, this was Captain America—her eyes went wide.

"You okay?" he asked. He checked his handkerchief again, dabbed at his nose one more time, and then stuffed the bloody bit of fabric into his pocket.

"You're Steve Rogers," she said dumbly.

He grinned and looked at her a little oddly before saying. "Yeah? Bucky introduced us earlier? Did you think I was someone else?"

She realized that she probably shouldn't say anything to jeopardize the future because despite being a PoliSci major she had taken enough history classes to know how much this guy made a difference in the war, so she just smiled and shook her head. "No, it's just... I'm being weird. Sorry. You've got really pretty eyes." She answered like an idiot before looking down at her shoes. She'd torn her stockings again, dammit.

"Thanks," he said, and if she wasn't mistaken he might have blushed a little. "You do too."

"So are we going dancing?" Connie asked, interrupting.

Steve raised his eyebrows a little in question and Darcy nodded. "I'm not much of a dancer, to tell the truth," she said.

"Me either." He smiled and held up his hand, she took it and they turned and followed Bucky and Connie back into the dance hall.

And if Darcy didn't go back to the place she expected Jane to collect her from the next day... well, no one had to know.


	28. Fondness

**Fondness**

 _Bucky breaks his arm and gets something close to a confession of love._

Pairing: Bucky/Peggy/Steve  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: confessions of love  
Words: 200  
Original Release Date: 31 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #19: **G1** _Need,_ **G2** _Broken,_ **G3** _Romeo & Juliet, _**G4** _Medication,_ **G5** _Blue_ with bonus squares N5 Train, and O1 Ridiculous

* * *

Agent Carter dropped a worn blue book onto Bucky's lap. He blinked open his eyes at her before looking down at it. "Romeo and Juliet?" he asked. His mouth felt thick and cotton-filled and he might have slurred a little. The medication they'd given him was potent. She crossed her arms over her chest but he couldn't tell if it was out of annoyance or not.

"Steve suggested you needed a book. I figured if you were forced to read something sappy and ridiculous, you'd heal faster."

"I broke my arm."

"By almost falling out of a train."

"Well, I'd rather take the broken arm than the certain fall to my death. You don't got to be mad at me for it," he mumbled.

Her pinched look softened slightly. She glanced around, checking to make sure they weren't being eavesdropped on and stepped closer. "You worried us. Immensely."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Steve's just upset that you were hurt at all. Do you have any idea how inconsolable he'd be if you died?"

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Would you be upset? Inconsolable?"

She reached up and brushed her fingers through his hair. "We'd miss you, Bucky. I'd miss you."


	29. Housemates

**Housemates**

 _Bucky meets his new roommate. Or rather, she meets hers._

Pairing: Darcy & Bucky  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: AU - Modern: No Powers  
Words: 100  
Original Release Date: 31 Dec 2018  
Prompt: MCU Almost-No-Rules Bingo Card #20: **N2** _Tail,_ **N3** _Free Space,_ **N4** _Right,_ **G3** _House,_ **O3** _Space_

* * *

Bucky stared up at the house in front of him. He'd applied for housing and hadn't expected anything but had been pleasantly shocked when the landlord had contacted him and said there was space left. He swallowed and nodded to himself to calm his nerves and headed up. He knocked on the door with his right hand and waited.

The door opened and Bucky was greeted by an exuberant dog wagging his tail and a pretty woman with dark hair. "Oh, hi, you must be the new guy."

"Bucky Barnes," he offered his hand to her.

"Darcy. Come on in."


	30. Homemade Ice Cream

**Homemade Ice Cream**

 _Peggy should have known giving Bucky the choice would always result in the little stone fruit._

Pairing: Bucky/Peggy/Steve, Bucky/Plums  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Bucky/Plums, Domesticity  
Words: 258  
Original Release Date: 12 Oct 2019  
Additional Notes: I wrote this for a Halloween drabble challenge before I noticed that the story needed to be Halloween-ish. Oops.

* * *

"Hello loves," Peggy said, leaning over the kitchen island to plant a kiss on Steve's, then Bucky's cheek. "Sorry, I'm late. I got caught up in something at work." She inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of meat browning and roasting vegetables. "Did everything go okay at the shops today?"

"Yeah, everything was fine," Steve said. "We went early so there wasn't much of a crowd." He was cutting cucumbers for the garden salad that would be the appetizer of tonight's multi-course meal. Peggy liked watching how precise Steve was in his task, every slice was uniform. Behind him, Bucky bent and opened the oven to check the roasting pan. Steve intentionally bumped his butt against Bucky's which caused Bucky to look back over his shoulder at him.

"What?" he asked.

Steve just shook his head, an innocent grin on his face.

"Oh, did you remember to do the ice cream earlier? It needed to go in the freezer for a few hours to be ready for dessert," Peggy asked.

"Yep. Guess what fruit Bucky picked?"

"Peaches?" she guessed. Steve liked peach ice cream.

Bucky grinned when Steve paused before answering. "Plums."

"Is plum ice cream even a thing?" Peggy asked. She should have known. Giving Bucky the choice would always result in the little stone fruit.

Steve shrugged and glanced at Bucky.

"According to the internet," Bucky said definitively, "yes. Roasted, buttermilk, balsamic. There's one with edible rose petals."

Peggy looked back at Steve, incredulity creeping into her expression.

"We skipped the roses, this time," Steve assured her.


End file.
